


Con Game Texas

by SteampunkChuckster



Series: Chuck Versus the Con Game [5]
Category: Chuck (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Chuck Versus the Con Game, Chuck fic, Con Artists, ConVerse, Cowboy Hats, Crime fic, F/M, Texas, apologies to anyone from Texas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-29
Updated: 2014-05-28
Packaged: 2018-01-26 22:50:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1705475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SteampunkChuckster/pseuds/SteampunkChuckster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eight weeks have passed since Chuck's near brush with death. They have moved on from Pompodoge now that Chuck is fully healed, and they have their eye on a new prize. Deep in the heart of Texas. But when one of Sarah's old acquaintances gets into the mix, will it ruin Chuck and Sarah's con? Or can they use it to their advantage?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Con Game Texas

**Author's Note:**

> AU, ConVerse. Chuck and Sarah have moved onto a new con that takes place deep in the heart of Texas. Danger lurks around every corner as they con themselves into their mark's inner circle.

“You know, I could really do with some rain right now,” Sarah Walker groused as she leaned against the wall of a stylized adobe building, beneath the overhang of the cafe entrance. 

“Mmm, so could I,” came the deep rumbling voice near her ear as a large, warm hand slid under her white tank top, against the sweaty skin of her back. 

The meaning of Chuck’s words dawned on her as she remembered a few weeks ago in Lisbon when it had rained suddenly and she’d been wearing a white sundress. The restful jaunt to check out the hotel bar ended up becoming a race back to their room. 

Unfortunately, they didn’t have time for that at the moment, so Sarah reached up and put her hand over his face, shoving him away with a smirk. “Behave yourself, will you?”

Chuck grinned cheekily and wiggled his nose, leaning back against the wall and flapping the front of his T-shirt, unsuccessfully trying to ease his suffering.

Neither of them were fully prepared for the Texas heat before they took on the job. And the extra hair on his face wasn’t doing much to help with the temperature either.

“So who’s this guy we’re waiting for, anyway?” Chuck asked, resisting the urge to tuck a strand of hair from her wig behind her ear as it escaped its ponytail and fell to her temple. 

“One of Marty Gaup’s buyers. We make the exchange and bring it back to the villa. Then we’re done for the day and we can—” She saw the slow smile spread across his face and bit her lip to keep from grinning, her eyes brimming behind her sunglasses as she looked away from him and down the street. “Finish planning,” she continued. “We’ll have to be quick about this.”

“I know,” he replied quietly. She turned to look at him. He was squinting out at the people walking by, looking strange and yet still handsome behind the facial hair he’d grown out. While bearded Chuck was very different from the Chuck she was used to, she wasn’t entirely opposed. It had its certain merits. “I don’t particularly relish being an errand boy for a drug smuggler.”

“Yeah, not at the top of my list either, but being his new hires was the only way we could get close enough to rob him of his prized possession without causing too much of a ruckus.”

Chuck frowned and crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes scanning the street for the buyer. She knew that frown. “What?” she asked, tilting her sunglasses down and looking at him over the frame.

“Nothing.”

She playfully flicked his earlobe. 

“Ah—Heeyy! Ow! I have sensitive earlobes!” he complained and she laughed loudly.

“You’re such a baby. You do not have sensitive earlobes. Tell me what you’re frowning about.” She leaned close as he pouted and held his ear.

“I just…” His ears turned bright red and he opened and closed his mouth a few times, searching for the words to continue.

“Oh, that’s cute.” He turned to look at Sarah. She was grinning. “You’re jealous because Gaup made a pass at me this morning when we got our orders.”

“Wh-What? Come on. Why would _that_ make me jealous? I’m not—I’m not jealous. He’s like…at least ten years older than me. And he looks like a mix between Christian Slater and that guy from Burn Notice. And he wears pink suits sometimes, which is just…You have to have the right complexion for pink, if you’re a guy especially, and he totally doesn’t.”

Sarah’s grin became wider and wider as he rambled. If they weren’t on the job right now, she would have taken his face in her hands and kissed him senseless, right here on the sidewalk. 

“That being said,” Chuck continued, “I would have maybe preferred it if he’d been looking at your face while you were speaking instead of at your—lower than your face.” He made a perturbed face, his lips pressed together in a thin line and his eyes narrowed.

She let out an amused huff of air. “Well, we agreed beforehand that we’re not romantically involved. I-I mean for the job. So to him I’m fair game.”

Chuck snorted derisively. “Like us being romantically involved would stop him from ogling your—lower than your face.”

“They’re breasts, Chuck. It’s okay. You can say it,” she said, lifting a flirtatious eyebrow. She watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down. “And anyways, we could potentially get into trouble if Marty Gaup knows you’re my—that we’re together.”

“I’m your boyfriend, Sarah. It’s okay. You can say it.”

She resented his bright smile because it rankled her and was incredibly adorable both at the same time. “What are you talking about? I have no problem calling you that.”

She spotted a dark maroon cowboy hat moving over Chuck’s shoulder and stood up straight. 

“Oh really? ‘Cause—”

“Shh. Bodega’s here. It’s showtime.”

The silly smile died on his face and determination shone in its place as he stood to his full intimidating height and turned to look over his shoulder. “I’ll make the exchange. You follow and watch my back.”

She met his gaze. “Always.”

His lips quirked into a small smile and he turned, walking towards the man wearing the maroon cowboy hat. Chuck swept his hand through his hair that he’d grown long and brushed back from his forehead.

The two men met eyes quickly then looked away. Chuck adjusted the cloth grocery bag in his grip just as he was less than two feet away from the man with the same colored bag and he stumbled suddenly, colliding with Bodega pretty roughly.

Two grocery bags dropped to the ground and Chuck apologized profusely, awkwardly brushing off the man’s button up shirt and blushing, before bending down to pick up his bag and continue along, still begging for forgiveness as the man growled. 

The weight of his bag felt different. It was a bit heavier, and he knew the exchange had been made.

Sarah moved up to his side to match his pace and threaded her fingers through his. “That was kind of sexy the way you did that,” she muttered out of the side of her mouth, stroking the back of his hand with her thumb.

“The way I did what?” 

“The way you made tripping on your shoelace seem so accidental.” Her voice was brimming with amusement.

“Shut up.”

“What? I said it was sexy.”

“You take pleasure in seeing me squirm.”

“I take pleasure in a lot of things, Bartowski. Seeing you squirm is only one of them.”

His ears turned bright red again and she beamed. The couple swooped around the block and climbed into Chuck’s pickup truck. He put the bag between them and revved the engine, peeling off down the Laredo streets towards the private residence of Marty Gaup.

}o{

Chuck pored over the diagram he was drawing per Sarah’s specifications, leaning back against the headboard of the bed, a pillow wedged behind his bare back. The sheet was pulled up to his waist and the duvet was on the ground at the end of the bed.

Sarah’s nude side pressed against him as she rounded his left arm with both of hers and pushed her face into his shoulder. “Did you get the guard posted by the greenhouse entrance?” she asked.

“Yep, he’s there. See?” He removed the pencil from where he’d been distractedly tapping the eraser against his nose and pointed at the diagram with it.

“Did—Did you give him a mustache?” She squinted at it.

“Why, yes, m’dear. That is a mustache.” He turned to grin at her and bounced his eyebrows. “Well, you’ve seen the guy. He has a mustache.”

“Yeah, but you drew the guards as little circles and now this one little circle has a mustache.”

“He’s a scruffy little circle, I guess.”

She shook her head and smirked, looking back down at the diagram and taking it all in. “So where would our best bet be if we wanted to get into Gaup’s private suite?”

“Why do we need to get into his private suite?”

She looked up at him through her eyelashes, brushing her lips against his shoulder. “Because we’ve established that the statue isn’t anywhere else in the villa. He keeps it in a chamber, I think. Alarmed. Only way to get in is through his room. We’ve been over this.”

“Right, right, right. Well, we could always pull a Romeo and use the trellis. Oh Gaupeo Gaupeo,” he said in a high squeaky voice. “Wherefore art thou, Gaupeo?”

She rolled her eyes. “Stop being an idiot. That trellis won’t hold your weight.”

“Why, Sarah Walker. Are you calling your boyfriend fat? Because that’s not what you said a half hour ago. However, I do seem to recall a lot of _‘Oh Chuck! Do that again!’_ ” he cried out in a high voice.

Sarah laughed loudly, looking at him in stunned disbelief before tackling him to the mattress. He continued mimicking her until she clamped a hand over his mouth. His eyes shone in utter happiness over her hand as they wrestled. But with Chuck’s hands occupied with the pencil and his diagram, Sarah easily subdued him. 

He moved his arm around and tapped her nose gently with the eraser at the end of the pencil. 

“You better stop that,” she warned, raising an eyebrow. She was acutely aware of their complete lack of clothing. His lips pursed against her fingers and she lifted her hand away from his face.

“Yes ma’am,” he said in a cheeky Texan accent. Sarah hadn’t been aware until now that she had a thing for the Texan accent. Or maybe she just had a thing for the bearded nerd pinned beneath her at the moment.

“We have planning to do.”

He smiled mutely and nodded, helping her awkwardly clamber back up to her position against the headboard. He joined her immediately and flattened the diagram over the clipboard again. “Kay, so no to the trellis. Because I’m too fat to climb it.”

“You’re the skinniest freakin’ guy, Chuck. But you’re also, like, ten feet tall, so…” She reached up to ruffle his hair and took a moment to enjoy the goofy smile on his face. She knew he loved it when she put her hands anywhere near his hair. “Although, _I_ could always climb the trellis into his bedroom.”

“Nope.”

Sarah bit her cheek to keep her snarky smile at bay. “Why not?”

“Because of reasons.”

“That’s the worst answer to anything ever, Chuck.”

“I thought it was a pretty valid answer.”

“Okay, fine. No trellis.”

“Right. Because who knows what is in there? A pack of wild dogs or something equally dangerous. Like a man shark. A shark that isn’t _just_ in the water. How terrifying is that? Unless you’re talking Street Sharks. Those guys are super rad and—” He stopped when he saw the look on her face, a look he’d become accustomed to. “So yes. Both of us. In his bedroom. Not just you. In this man’s bedroom.”

She grinned and shook her head. Chuck’s jealousy had been pretty infrequent in the last eight weeks they’d been sleeping together. It had irked her the first time it had happened in Portugal, when a man had blatantly asked her to his hotel room right in front of Chuck. Not that Chuck understood Portuguese, but he was well aware of the cadence. Before Sarah had been able to say no thanks, Chuck had wedged himself between her and her admirer and growled. 

Upon further reflection, she’d been quietly pleased by it. It was a new feeling, having someone else deal with the problem. Trusting Chuck to protect her. And despite knowing she could handle it herself, he’d stepped up and taken the responsibility upon himself. It had been a nice feeling.

It was still nice, she thought to herself as she stared up at Chuck’s profile while he swept his amber eyes over the paper. She took a moment to admire his longer hair, the way the curls literally seemed to explode every which way at the back of his head and on his neck. His cute bed head from their earlier activities was even worse with his hair long. She shook the cobwebs from her mind and forced herself to focus when he spoke. 

“What about the south entrance? Only one guard. And he’s a wee little fella.”

“Oh, good. Then even you could probably take him out.”

He curled his lip at her. “Haaa. Funny.”

She giggled and reached in front of him, pointing to the entrance he was talking about. “Isn’t there a staircase right next to this entrance? It should probably lead up to the third floor where his private residence is. I know it at least goes to the second floor.”

He let out a short chuckle. “Yeah, kinda the point of stairs, babe.”

Sarah smacked Chuck’s chest and nipped at his sensitive earlobe. “Quit it with the sass, mister.”

She felt him shiver and smirked. 

He wound his arm around her and pulled her close so that their bodies melded together as she increased their contact even further by draping her left leg over both of his. “If we time this right, we could get in and out without Gaup even knowing we were there. And then we can go to Tahiti. Or something.”

She pulled back and raised an eyebrow. “Tahiti? Really, Chuck?”

“Hey, what’s wrong with Tahiti? I’ve never been to Tahiti.”

“Eh.” She shrugged and snuggled back into him.

“What ‘eh’, it’s Tahiti! It’s, like, _the_ place people talk about when they mention vacationy spots.”

“That’s it exactly. It’s so crowded with people.”

“Well, what’s the point of having a really hot girlfriend if I can’t show her off in a bikini?” he asked, grinning teasingly.

Sarah pulled back again and glared. “I’m gonna kick your ass.”

“Ooo, promise?” His giant gleeful smile plus the bouncing eyebrows were too much and she swung herself around to straddle him and push him down against the mattress again. His grin faded and Sarah smirked. “Hiyo. Uh…” He swallowed, holding his arms out of her way, the diagram and pencil still in his hands. She lowered herself to lie directly on top of him, pushing her face into his neck and kissing his skin there lightly. 

He let out a long, contented sigh as his lips formed a lazy smile. He moved the pencil over and used the eraser to gently sweep her long blond hair to the side, gaping as her tan, smooth skin came into view. It didn’t matter how often he’d been in this position with Sarah Walker, or how often he’d stroked his hand down her back and felt the accompanying shiver wrack through her perfect body. It still felt just as amazing as the first time, and he was having some difficulty catching his breath at the moment. 

“So!” He cleared his throat, propping the clipboard with the diagram on Sarah’s smooth, bare back. “Our pal Marty locks his bedroom door I’m assuming—” he chirped, feeling her lips travel up beneath his jaw.

“That’s a good idea. Locking doors,” she muttered against his skin, shifting her body a bit higher on his.

“Yeah!” he squeaked, shutting his eyes tightly. “And it’d be good to figure out what kind of lock, or locks, because there could be…” She slid her hand down to squeeze his hip. “Oh, hi. More than one. More than one…lock. Hey! Whoa! There it is. It’s there.”

“Chuck, I don’t care about locks right now.” He felt her teeth graze the skin of his throat and whimpered.

“But we need to make more money. And locks are…important…right now.” 

She propped her elbows on either side of his head and peered down at him for just a moment before diving in for a languid kiss, cupping his face with her hands. 

“Maybe…” He took a breath, muttering against her lips. “Maybe not that important.”

He dove back into the kiss, locks forgotten. The diagram and pencil slipped from his fingers and fell to the ground beside the bed. Just as he rounded her torso with his arms, Sarah’s cell buzzed on the nightstand.

“Mmm,” she hummed against his lips, pulling away. “I have to get that,” she panted, moving to reach for her phone. 

He grabbed her arm and tucked it between their bodies, arching his back so that he could nibble on the juncture between her neck and shoulder, his mustache and beard scratching against her skin and causing her eyes roll back into her head. “Yeah, but you’re sleeping and can’t hear it.”

“It’s only seven.”

“Early to bed, early to rise. Ben Franklin.” 

“Oh okay, _before_ you wanted to talk about the lock on Gaup’s bedroom door but now that I have to answer the phone you’re friggin’—” He began licking along her collarbone and she decided to stop it right there. “You know what?” She moved her hand up and grabbed ahold of his nose.

“Ah, ah, ah! Ow! Okay, okay! Answer it!” 

She grinned in triumph and reached over for her phone to looked at the screen. “Sh. It’s David.”

Sarah swiped her thumb over the phone’s screen, meanwhile noticing that he was experimentally scrunching up his sore nose. She slapped his hand away gently and placed a soft peck on the tip of his nose, placing the phone up to her ear as Chuck’s features melted. “Hello?”

“Wolf? Do you have Piranha there with you?”

“He’s here.” And to emphasize that point, she felt Chuck’s hand wander beneath the sheet. She squirmed and gave him a warning look. But the mischief in his brown eyes was telling her he’d not listen anytime soon. 

“Good. The boss has a job for you. It’s important. You and Piranha come to the house tomorrow at 11 am. Details will follow.”

“You mean…G—” She swallowed Gaup’s name because she knew she shouldn’t say it over the phone just in case…but mostly because Chuck chose that moment squeeze her leg and tug her tighter against him. “Uh, the boss is going to give us a job personally? We get to speak to him?”

“That’s right. Tell Piranha to comb that mop on his pickle head…” Sarah frowned. Chuck didn’t have a pickle head, nor was his hair a _mop_. Her idle fingers unconsciously stroked in his soft curls. “…And you? You wear something nice for the boss, eh?”

Sarah ignored the comment and hung up, wishing she could reach through the phone and strangle the snickering douche bag. She tossed the phone onto the desk and looked down at Chuck.

“Well, we’ve got a job,” she sighed.

“A job?” He raised an eyebrow. “I already got a job. Hehe.”

“That was a bad one.”

“Was it?”

“Oh yeah. Pretty bad. Like, you won’t be getting another job anytime soon bad.”

He sighed. “Aw. M’sorry.”

She bit her cheek to keep from smiling at his cuteness. “We have to go to Gaup’s place at 11 tomorrow and he’ll tell us then.”

“Well, that sounds like a party and a half. Wonder if he’ll wear his pink suit. Or the striped blue suit. With those dumb aviators and alligator shoes.” 

But then he looked into Sarah’s face, the way she was patiently watching, waiting for him to figure out what they _could_ be doing right now instead of chatting about Marty Gaup’s wardrobe. He grinned and rolled them over, pinning her to the mattress as she threw her head back and laughed.

}o{

“This is Georgina Montgomery, also known as Renate Bauch, Ashleigh Norse…And she’s now masquerading under the pseudonym of Jane Cheetham,” Marty Gaup informed them in his Boston accent, dropping a pile of photos on the table.

Sarah peered at the pictures as she splayed them out in front of her and Chuck standing at her shoulder. They were somewhat blurry because of the distance from which they’d been taken. “She likes wigs, apparently,” she said, chewing her lip thoughtfully.

“And wearing very little clothing,” Chuck piped up near her ear.

She fought the urge to glare at him as Gaup was standing directly in front of them, but she knew her partner felt the way she tensed when he cleared his throat a little nervously. She only hoped Gaup hadn’t noticed the interaction. 

“She is incredibly sexy. Beguiling bitch,” he snapped at the photographs. “You, in particular, better watch yourself, Piranha. One look at her and you’ll forget your name. Especially a kid like you.” The drug lord paused, his bloodshot eyes roving to Sarah and drifting up and down her figure. “Although, with a partner like this, you’re probably used to beautiful women, eh?” He laughed and socked Chuck in the arm.

Chuck’s grin was weak at best as he let out a soft “Heh” and clenched his fists under the table. “Yeah. I think I can handle uh…Jane.”

“So what’s the job?” Sarah interjected, her business-like tone managing to swing both men back to the subject at hand. “What are we supposed to do about her?” Sarah asked.

Gaup straightened the collar of his pink button up and cleared his throat. “All’s you need to know is she’s a wicked slut. I warned her…if she came ‘round here again, she’d get it.”

“Get it,” Chuck repeated softly. “Oh. Oh! Get it. Right. I gotcha.” He brought his thumb across his neck and made a sound that didn’t bear any resemblance to the sound of a throat being cut. Sarah resisted the urge to roll her eyes at him. At least he wasn’t turning green. Chuck had a tendency to either go green or pale when someone mentioned him and murder in the same sentence. Thankfully, he was his natural color for now.

“You want us to capture her and bring her back?” Sarah asked, keeping her voice even. “Or just kill her? You want a body? Picture? Some kind of proof we got the job done?”

Marty Gaup ran his hands down his front again and smiled a little, taking a moment to let his eyes appraise her. “Right down to business, aren’t ya? I haven’t finished yet, sweetheart.” He turned his gaze to Chuck. “Is she always this impatient?”

There was something decidedly lecherous in the way he said it and Sarah felt waves of heat emanating from Chuck as he stood beside her. She wanted to touch him, knowing all it took was the lightest of grazes, a finger against his palm or his wrist, to calm him down, to pull him back to the task at hand. But she couldn’t risk it. The table was low enough that Gaup would see the action. As would his henchmen waiting behind them.

“Nope!” Chuck chirped. “She just likes killing people, Boss. It’s her specialty. She kills _a lot_ of people. Lots of killing. And for the most trivial reasons, too. The smallest things. Deadly. Deadly Wolf. Isn’t that…isn’t that what they called you in Thailand? Deadly Wolf?”

“That was Giant Blonde She-Male, actually,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him. She could still see the way he was working his jaw. He was pissed. And as funny as his attempt to dispel that anger would have been in any other moment, she was a little worried he might get carried away. And they couldn’t afford that.

Gaup cleared his throat and they snapped back to attention. “I heard she was back in Texas yesterday. Here. In _my_ town. My men spotted her during their rounds yesterday and trailed her for awhile. She’s up to somethin’. And it has to do with me.” His eyes darkened. “This time I’m getting the jump on her, though.” He reached up and snapped his fingers at one of his henchmen. 

The tall, stringy fellow stepped forward and pulled a wrinkled business card out of his pocket, handing it to his boss. “She was having a coffee yesterday afternoon and spit out her gum into this business card,” the tall man said quickly. “We picked it up when she left.”

Apparently having very little care for germs, Gaup straightened the card and thrust it out at Chuck. When her partner seemed a little hesitant to take it, Sarah rolled her eyes and reached out to snatch the card, turning it over. “It’s a club just outside of the city. I saw it when we were scoping the town yesterday,” she said. “I know where it is.”

“That’s where she’s going tonight?” Chuck asked. 

“Well, she didn’t go there last night. We had our eyes on ‘er all yesterday and part o’ today.”

Sarah bit the inside of her cheek. She shouldn’t ask too many questions, she knew. Marty Gaup didn’t seem like the sort of man who liked explaining things. And he seemed smart, smarter than a lot of the criminals she’d brushed elbows with before. And he looked like he had a short fuse. But she had to ask. 

“So, Boss, why you honoring me and Piranha with the hit job? You just recruited us. Why not give the job to somebody like stringbean over here?” she asked, jerking her thumb at the henchman who’d handed over the card.

“I wouldn’t have,” he said, walking to his large plush chair and flopping into it. He snapped his fingers and another henchman appeared at his side, opening a box of cigars towards him. He calmly picked one out and the henchman snipped the end and lit it for him. “Except that I’m pretty sure the bitch knows all my guys. You two are new. And you’d make a good lookin’ couple at a club. Well…you’d make up for _him_ , at least,” he added, shaking his cigar at Chuck cheekily.

Sarah appeased herself by thinking nasty thoughts behind the calm smirk that settled on her face. Like, for instance, at least Chuck’s tanned skin was natural and not from a tube. And his hair was dark and full and curly, unlike the dyed Ken doll hair that would soon become a comb over…probably in the next five years, Sarah mused silently. And Chuck was marvelously tall with broad shoulders and a thin waist. And toned, long arms. She knew he could make any suit look good—even a pink one. 

Feeling better, she shrugged. “So how do we pick her out of the crowd? Any markers?”

“You mean like a birthmark or somethin’?” He let a seedy chuckle. “Never paid much attention to her birthmarks if you know what I mean. Had other things on my mind. But, uh…she was injured when she was young, I think. Her left arm.” He lifted his left arm up and wiggled it a bit. 

Chuck was hoping some of the ash from the cigar would fall onto his lap, but unfortunately that didn’t happen. “There’s a scar we should be looking for?” Chuck asked.

“Nah. There ain’t a scar. But she can’t lift it all the way.”

Sarah nodded. “And she looks about my height.”

“Little taller. And she likes her heels. She’ll be about six foot with heels. Maybe even taller. And thin.”

She nodded again, then sent Chuck a look. “We’re done here, then. About the proof…”

He waved her off and picked something out of his teeth. “Just take care of it. You’re professionals, right? Killers?”

“We kill a lot of people,” Chuck answered. “All—All the time.” He reached up to nervously smooth his thick hair back, making the gesture look natural, but Sarah saw right through him.

“All I ask is that you make it clean. You, uh, don’t wanna stick around if you fuck up.” He blew out a puff of cigar smoke, letting it drift up towards the ceiling while he let the threat sink in.

Sarah smoothly swept up the photos, even though they didn’t seem like they’d be much help, and tucked them into the folder. “If that’s it, then?” She raised an eyebrow at their boss.

He waved them away and they rushed out of the room, staying silent until they were shut in their hotel room fifteen minutes later. Sarah yanked her wig off of her head, tossing it on the mattress. “Well, fuck.”

“Mierda,” Chuck mumbled. She raised an eyebrow at him. “What? We’re near the border. Might as well practice my Spanish.”

“Can you be serious for a second, Chuck? We’ve just become hitmen—”

“And hitwoman.”

“Chuck!”

“Sorry, sorry!” He held up his hands. “It’s a defense mechanism when I’m terrified. You know this.” He rubbed his hands down his face. “We can just get outta here. Cut our losses and split.”

“No.”

“What do you mean ‘no’? You _want_ to go to that club tonight and kill Renate Ashleigh Jane? Because if we don’t, Gaup is putting the hit on _us_. You heard him.” 

“No! Chuck, come on. I’m a thief, not a murderer.”

He opened his mouth to say something and paled a little, shutting it again and shrinking back. And despite the fact that he hadn’t said a word, she knew what he’d meant to say. She lowered her eyes and licked her lips. 

“Sarah—” He stepped forward and she held up a hand, interrupting him.

“No, it’s true. I’ve taken jobs like this before. But that was a long time ago. Before you. When I was alone and desperate, okay? Before I’d established myself.”

“I know that.”

“And I’m not—I’m not making excuses. But it’s different now.” His hand was suddenly beneath her elbow and he was stepping closer, wrapping his other arm around her and kissing her forehead.

“It _is_.”

“You’re a jerk. You know that?” she murmured, muffled against his collarbone. She felt vulnerable and she hated it, hated the way he always made her feel this way. And then when she’d try to lock it away, he’d wrap his arms around her and make everything better. And a part of her hated that too.

Because he was making her dependent. Dependent on him. 

The way she’d been dependent on her father when she was just a girl. He’d left her.

And while she knew Chuck would never walk out on her, while she trusted him to stay, there would always be things they couldn’t control. A bullet. A knife. A faulty brake pedal. And if she lost him…If she lost Chuck… 

“We don’t even know anything about this girl,” she continued quickly, fighting past the hitch in her breathing, and the way her heart was racing in her ribcage. “Who knows why he wants her dead? Maybe all she did was reject him or something trivial like that. You never know with these powerful drug smuggler bastards. They can do whatever they want and get away with it, too. You can see it dripping off of him. He thinks he’s God’s gift to womankind.” She made a face into his shoulder.

“Sarah, this guy has got the entire Texas-Mexico border in the palm of his hand. Either we kill this woman or we get the hell outta here. Because the third option is that we get dead and I am not ready to get dead.” He grabbed the folder out of her hand and dropped it on the mattress, taking her face in his hands and looking straight into her eyes. 

She saw in his panicked gaze something else, something that left her breathless even while it confused her. His eyes were soft, his brow furrowed. Of course he wasn’t ready to die. Who was, really? But—She stopped that stream of thought when it hit her. 

He meant them. What they’d discovered between them only very recently. What they were still in the process of discovering. She felt warmth flood through her as she smiled a little, reaching up to tug at his whiskers fondly.

“I know, Chuck,” she said quietly, hoping her face reflected the same sentiment as she looked into his brown eyes. “I’m not ready, either. We’re not going to die. And we’re not going to leave…just yet.”

“But we’re not killing her.” It was more of a question than a statement. “Chances are she’s completely innocent in all this.”

“Sure, but…” She moved away and paced towards the window, popping it open and letting some outside air come in. “If Gaup threatened her to stay away from Laredo, wouldn’t she be afraid to come back here? If she was innocent, she wouldn’t want anything to do with this place ever again. She has to be here for a reason. And he’s right. It has to be him. Everything in this town starts and ends with Marty Gaup.”

“That’s true. But whoever she is, whatever she’s doing here, she can’t be as bad as Slimy Ass Hole.” She made a grossed out face, even as she snorted. “And you know, I don’t appreciate how he threw the term ‘slut’ around like it was nothing.”

She just stared at him with a small smirk, her brow furrowed. 

“What? I hate that word. Would you like it if someone called you a sl—?” He sighed. “You know.”

“No, but he didn’t say it to me.”

“Yeah, well, he didn’t have to.” He made a face and hunched over to make himself shorter, mussing his hair and pretending to smoke a cigar. “Is she always this _impatient_?”

Sarah grinned and let out a short laugh, her shoulders bobbing as she crossed her arms. “Oh, come on, Chuck. You shouldn’t expect anything less than absolute disrespect for womankind from a guy of Marty Gaup’s caliber. Why’d you let it bother you so much?”

“Because it—it just bothers me!”

“Yeah, I noticed. You went off on that tirade about how I like killing people. Like that’s supposed to scare him. And then the Killer Wolf part or whatever you were saying…” 

“Deadly Wolf,” he corrected. “Kinda catchy, though, isn’t it? Like Solid Snake or something.”

She shook her head. “You went a little too far with that one. Hopefully our boss just thinks you’re a little nuts and isn’t suspicious.”

“Everyone thinks I’m a little nuts.” He grinned with his tongue between his teeth and she strode up to him, lovingly brushing a curl back behind his ear and kissing him. He kissed her back, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. 

He pulled away a few moments later and looked down into her flushed face. “So! What are we doing if we’re not leaving?”

“We can’t leave,” she said, her voice catching a little. She cleared her throat and sat on the bed to give herself a bit of physical distance from him. “He’s got a golden elephant statue the size of my head hidden away in that villa and I want it.”

“You know, when you talk about gold, you get this glint in your eye that’s really sexy.”

“Oh yeah? Most people think it’s kinda intimidating.”

“Oh, it is a little. Don’t get me wrong. But you know I like that in a woman.”

She chuckled and leaned back on her elbows, peering up at him. “Chuck…seriously. Tell me you don’t want that statue and we can get out of here and never come back to this shitty deathtrap of a town.”

Chuck stared at her thoughtfully. She was being sincere. He knew by the way her eyes were so clear and blue, and the way her lips were set in determination. She’d leave if he asked her to, and that hardened his resolve.

“We’re gettin’ ourselves a golden elephant, sweetheart,” he said in a Texan accent.

The answering grin on her face was so bright and happy that he knew whatever happened in the next twenty four hours, everything would be alright. 

“Hey, pardner…” she said in a lackadaisical Texas drawl. “Why don’t ya come on down ‘ere?” she invited, tilting her head cutely.

“I’m not sure we got time for this, Miss Walker. We gotta job to do.”

“Why, Mister Bartowski, aren’t we mighty bold today! We got ’til tonight. You think yer gonna take longer’n a couple hours?”

With that, she hooked her fingers into the belt loops of his jeans and tugged him down on top of her.

They didn’t come back up for air for at least a couple of hours. 

}o{

The music blared loudly over the sound system. Bodies clumped together in the middle of the dance floor, couples mingling so that you couldn’t tell where one pair ended and another began. 

The rhythm was frenetic, the strobes blinding and the rest of the room dark and cave-like. 

Chuck straightened his dark blue suit jacket over his shoulders, unbuttoning the top button of his black button up shirt. It was way, _way_ too hot outside, and even hotter inside, for this outfit. But Sarah insisted he wear the suit. He wondered if there’d been an ulterior motive there. She was never shy about how appealing she found him in a well-cut suit. She’d also thrown in the black felt cowboy hat that matched his shirt. His long curls poked out from beneath the brim at the back of his head. 

He weaved through the crowd towards the bar, subtly running his eyes over the people in the crowd, trying to spot Jane Cheetham, or at least someone with her build. He tilted his lips closer to his shirt collar where a small microphone was attached so that he could speak with Sarah.

“Hey, you see her?”

“No. God, I could really use one of those Long Island Iced Teas I keep seeing walk past me.”

“You’ve got Long Island Iced Teas walking past you? What are you drinking and might I have one of the same?”

“Shut up and concentrate.”

“ _You_ brought it up.”

“Idiot.”

“Guilty,” he teased, turning to wink over his shoulder in the direction of the general area he thought she was stationed in the club. She’d entered the club a good twenty minutes before him thanks to her innate beauty and the maroon mini dress she wore that showed quite a bit of her long legs.

“Focus, Chuck.”

He nodded to himself, pleased by the crackle of humor in her tone as she admonished him, then reached the bar. He ran a hand down his face, experiencing a bit of a shock at the feel of the facial hair that he had yet to become accustomed to, even after almost two weeks of it.

He ordered a whiskey on ice and idly glanced around the club. “It’s going to be impossible to find her in this mess,” he said into his collar, doing his best not to move his lips as much.

“There aren’t a lot of girls in here who fit the bill. Just remember to be careful. And I’m here if you need me.”

“Thanks.”

He spent close to ten minutes at the bar, slowly sipping his drink, bobbing his head to the trance-like beat, turned halfway towards the crowd to watch for anyone who looked like Jane. He spotted a tall woman in the middle of the crowd, bobbing up and down with the reggaeton beat. He watched her closely as she turned. Her face wasn’t helping him identify her as Jane Cheetham, so he subtly kept an eye on her.

“I may have spotted her,” he breathed, lifting his drink to his lips.

“Where?”

“Dancing.”

“That’s very specific, Piranha, thank you.”

He rolled his eyes and sipped his drink again, turning from the bar and blatantly eyeing the woman on the dance floor before spinning back to his drink.

“Oh. Her,” Sarah’s voice sounded in his ear. “She fits the build. I’ll keep my eye on her. She’ll need a drink at some point. And if she doesn’t—”

“I know. I’ll have to cut in and take control of the situation. I’ve got it.” Chuck was prepared for the situation, even though it left him feeling more than a little nervous. He would have to drug Jane and pretend she’d had too much to drink, then walk her out back for “fresh air” where Sarah would be waiting with the getaway car.

Then they planned to take her someplace private and get the details about why she was here, perhaps even something that could help them kidnap Marty Gaup’s elephant. 

After they were in the clear, they planned to alert the authorities about hearing strange noises in the place where they left her and leave them to handle the situation. 

By then they’d be miles and miles away, en route to their next destination.

“Wanna dance, cowboy?” 

Chuck almost jumped at the voice at his elbow, but he fought the impulse and instead took a large gulp of whiskey. “I’m not much of a dancer,” he drawled, looking up from his drink. The words nearly died in his throat as he looked into the face of a stunningly beautiful woman.

She smirked at his reaction and leaned over the bar. “Hey, Harvey. Johnnie Walker Black straight.” She turned back to Chuck. “Let me buy you another one of those—uh, what’re you drinkin’?” 

He swallowed and nearly choked on his own spit. “Heh. Huh. W-Oh. Whiskey, ma’am,” he said. “But, uh…I’m alright wit’ jes’ the one.” He sat up a little straighter and in the process banged his knee under the bar. “Ouch!”

She laughed, brushing the jet black hair that waved over her the left side of her face back behind her ear and revealing long, azure eyes rimmed in smokey eye shadow. The bartender put her drink down and she snapped her fingers towards Chuck. “Whiskey for the cowboy.”

“Oh! Oh, well thank you, ma’am. That’s mighty fine of ya, Miss…”

“Young,” she replied in a flirty voice.

“Yes, you are that,” he replied loudly, purposefully being a little obnoxious as he tipped his hat back from his forehead a bit. 

“It’s actually Kelly Young,” she said with a bit of an accent, thrusting her hand out for him to take.

“W-Well, that’s a purdy name. I, uh, I like that.” He grinned widely and took his drink out of the bartender’s hand before the man could put it down, taking a long drink of it. “Ah! Yep. That’s—That’s the good stuff.”

“Chuck, our Maybe-Jane is making a move towards the back room. I’m gonna follow her,” Sarah said over his earpiece. 

“So…I told you my name, cowboy.” She leaned a little closer still. 

“Oh! My-My name is George.” He swallowed again as she sat on the seat right next to his, her knees brushing against his thigh. He looked down at the contact and saw she was wearing the typical little black dress. But this one seemed to be made out of satin or velvet or something altogether too sinful to ponder, so he turned away and itched his nose.

“Of the Jungle?” she teased, tilting her head so that her wavy hair fell in a ridiculously graceful fashion. 

He let out a loud guffaw. “Oh I git it. That’s—Good one, Miss Young. I never got that one before. I never—Gosh! It’s hot in here, innit? I think maybe I should go into that back room back there,” he stumbled, gesturing towards the room Sarah said she was following Jane into.

Kelly giggled and looked down shyly. “Ya know, you’re pretty cute.”

“Chuck, what are you doing?” Sarah asked. “Is someone flirting with you at the bar?”

“Yap!” Chuck said loudly, causing Kelly to jump a bit. “I mean, I, uh, I heard tell of my cuteness before. Actually, my wife—She says it all the time. I should get home to her, that reminds me.” He began to scurry off the seat but her knee was suddenly positioned between his legs and she was quite nearly in his lap.

“I know you don’t have a wife, George of the Jungle.”

“Now how you know that?” he asked.

She shrugged and sat back, sipping her drink daintily. “Not wearin’ a ring.”

Chuck looked down at his left hand. “Well, I’ll be a—” He glanced up and out at the dance floor. “This isn’t good. My wife, she gonna kill me. Must have slipped off. Well, this is very bad. Really, very bad.” He started to scramble to his feet as best he could, but she was rising with him, her hand curled into his jacket. “I better go find it. Buy a replacement or somethin’.”

“George, come on,” she said. “I’m not asking you to come home with me. Just have a nice drink with me. We can chat.”

“A chat is nice and all, Miss Kelly Young, but I think I should go chat with my wife.”

“Still doin’ the wife thing, huh?” She shook her head with a pout, but pushed him back into his seat anyway. “Just drink your whiskey and maybe we’ll talk about what happens after that chat.

The allure of Kelly Young was suddenly a little obvious to Chuck, and her charm had faded. He watched her sip her drink and thought of Sarah in the other room. He knew he was a sap, and she’d told him so numerous times since they’d first become partners, but he couldn’t help but unfavorably compare this beguiling woman to his Sarah. 

Distractedly, he looked towards the back room again. “You know, Kelly? It was nice to meet you and all…” He turned back to find her watching him with a soft smile. “But I have to go.”

“Your wife?” she asked as he downed the rest of his second whiskey and climbed to his feet.

“That’s right. My w—” He felt like he’d just climbed into the Gravitron. The room started spinning and he felt his knees buckle. “My wife,” he muttered, despite his mouth feeling incredibly numb.

“Whoa, there. We got ourselves a lightweight, Harvey. I’ll take care of him.”

He felt her strong arms wrap around his shoulder as he was half carried towards the exit.

}o{

Sarah watched as the woman she was now convinced was Jane Cheetham wrapped her arms around a man’s waist, letting him nuzzle into the side of her face. She lifted her hand up to idly tuck a strand of dark brown hair behind her ear and spoke into her bracelet. “Chuck, I think we’ve found our Jane. She’s hanging on this guy, but I think you can charm her away. Just use your nerd speak.”

She giggled to herself and moved a little closer. Oddly enough, he didn’t respond. She’d vaguely heard him trying to scare off another woman at the bar by barking at her in a Texas accent.

It had been both cute and sad at the same time, but she’d stopped paying attention as their mark began making her rounds in the back room. “Chuck, did you hear me? Get in here, Piranha.”

Nothing.

She frowned, looking over her shoulder at the doorway that led into the main room where she’d left him at the bar. “Chuck?”

He didn’t respond.

She turned back to find Jane gyrating to the music with her beefy guy friend she’d just let maul her neck a few moments before. When the woman shimmied down to the ground, she lifted both of her arms over her head easily. Way too easily.

It was like someone had dumped a pitcher of ice water over her head. Fear spiked through her along with a kick of adrenaline. She moved towards the doorway. “Chuck?” she barked into her bracelet. “God damn it, Chuck.”

“Move! Come on! Out of the way!” she snapped at people who stepped into her path. She quite nearly shoved a short balding man into his girlfriend when he accidentally tipped into the doorway that led to the main dance floor.

“Chuck, do you copy?” she yelled, weaving through the dancers. “Move out of my way!” she roared. “Shit!”

Sarah knew in her gut that whoever had been trying to romance Chuck at the bar had to be Jane Cheetham. They’d underestimated her. The whole thing was a feint. 

She saw it clear as day now and she cursed loudly at herself, causing a feather-haired blonde dancing nearby to make a face at her. “Oh shut the fuck up with that face!” she barked angrily, finally getting to the front door of the bar.

She burst out into the cooler night air and looked up and down the street. Nothing. “Shit!”

Jane Cheetham must have wandered where she knew Gaup’s men would spot her yesterday. Gaup had even said that she knew what his men looked like. Of course she would have known if they were following her, and she played them like a damned sonata.

The business card that she’d spat her gum into.

She knew they’d pick it up and feel good about themselves for being so clever.

And Jane knew Gaup would send somebody to the bar to deal with her.

She and Chuck had stumbled right into the trap, and now Jane had him, and Sarah had no idea where she could have taken him. 

She had a flash of eight weeks ago when she swept into that suite and saw blood—Chuck’s blood—on the floor. Tears gathered in her eyes and her heart tripped in her chest. Clutching at her stomach, she tore down the street and ignored the man in the cowboy hat who hollered, “Hey, you need help there, little lady?”

She didn’t need help.

She just needed Chuck.

As Sarah rounded the corner into an alleyway, she spotted a black Cadillac Escalade wedged into it. A tall woman with jet black hair and a black dress had just slammed the back door shut and was hurrying to get into the driver’s seat.

Unfortunately for her, she didn’t make it that far.

A hand wrapped around her arm and tore her out of the SUV so that she toppled down to the ground.

“What the hell!” she screeched. The woman began climbing to her feet and disarmingly swung her leg out, catching the back of Sarah’s knee so that she collapsed to the cement.

Sarah raised her arm to block the other long leg that swung around to kick her in the head. She locked her arm around Jane’s leg and twisted, causing the other woman to cry out and fall to the ground again.

Jane’s other foot slammed into Sarah’s shoulder, the heel digging into her skin as she cried out and rocked back. Sarah used the momentum from the blow to roll backwards and flip herself to her feet, holding her shoulder. “If he’s dead, I swear I’ll kill you and your whole family,” she just barely got out before a flying heel caught her in the corner of her lip. 

Her head snapped back and she almost lost her footing again, but caught herself against the side of the van. She tasted blood as she righted herself, unable to stop the punch from her opponent as it slammed into her stomach.

Sarah spotted Jane’s knee coming at her face and quickly grabbed the woman’s thigh, shoving her backwards and causing her to land on her back. Sarah quickly sat on Jane’s stomach to subdue her, wrapping a fist in her hair and punching her across the face twice before the the black hair came off in her hand.

She looked at it and tossed it away, then stopped immediately as she glanced down at the redhead sprawled beneath her, recognizing the furious face she hadn’t quite gotten a good look at until now. “What the hell? Carina?”


End file.
